


Unlikely Vignettes

by ara_chan



Series: Unlikely Places Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deathly Hallows Fix, HP: EWE, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, M/M, backstory vignettes for future slow burn Snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 03:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10208339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ara_chan/pseuds/ara_chan
Summary: The life of Severus Snape from 1971-1998 in a series of vignettes to provide backstory for the larger workUnlikely Places. It provides context for his home life, his relationship with the Malfoys, and a few of his interactions with Harry while at Hogwarts in order to set up the Snarry story.





	1. 1971-1981

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant originally as reference material for Snape and the Malfoys' experiences as children that I could draw upon for a Snarry fic that I was writing, to ensure that I was consistent about any references that I made to the '70's. Because of that, this work isn't as fully-formed as my usual writing, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. The vignettes can be read as stand-alone pieces, or either before or after reading _Unlikely Places_. One significant change from canon: In this continuity, in 1971, Severus would have been 11, Narcissa 13, Bellatrix 14, and Lucius 15. It just made my life easier for reasons, so handwave-handwave artistic-license. Some memories and flashbacks contain direct quotes either from the movies or books, edited slightly (or heavily) to make a better Snarry story. :)

Year 1: 1971-1972

Of course he had seen Lucius Malfoy around the school a number of times. Being in the same house, it would have been impossible _not_ to have seen the Prefect on occasion. However, it wasn't until the spring term of his first year at Hogwarts that they exchanged words. Malfoy and Slytherin's Head Boy were up late in the Common Room, long after everyone else had given up studying. The pair were seated by the fire, playing Wizard's Chess. Severus found himself watching more and reading less, until at last he gave up altogether and came over to watch. 

Malfoy spent a moment visibly sizing up the scrawny eleven-year-old beside him, then asked, "Do you play?"

Snape shook his head mutely and was completely taken aback when the older boy offered him a seat. Until that moment, Lily Evans had been the only person in the castle to make him feel welcome. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs mostly ignored him, while Gryffindors were as warm and inviting as his father back home. The other Slytherins weren't cruel, but they made it clear that all interactions came with a price: use and be used. Malfoy patiently explained the rules, pointed out his basic strategy in the current game, and after soundly thrashing his opponent, sent Severus off to bed with a smile and well-wishes on his upcoming exams.

Over the following months, Malfoy's eyes often met his as the two boys passed in the halls, and Snape felt smugly pleased to know a fifth year student. They would nod at each other, exchange greetings on the way to breakfast, and so forth. It relieved some of the sorrow he felt that his only friend was a _Gryffindor_. He and Lily weren't able to speak much at school, but they would sneak off when they could to talk about classes and to make plans for the summer holidays. Their ideas were extravagant, things neither truly believed that they would ever be able to do, but it was still fun to pretend.

As the school year drew to a close, Snape had occasion to speak with Malfoy again. Exams were over, and students would be departing soon. Severus sat in a corner, reading, the only one not looking forward to going home. Malfoy loomed over him, tilting his head to get a better look at the book that had so captivated the younger student, then complimented him on his ability to understand such an advanced text. Severus's cheeks turned pink as he shyly informed the other boy that he often found the school's curriculum to be dull, so he would go looking for more interesting topics on his own. 

Malfoy nodded and said that he'd heard that about Snape, about how he regularly gave their Head of House quite a challenge in the classroom. His pink cheeks turned red at the remark, and Snape couldn't remember the last time that he had smiled so. Malfoy clapped him on the shoulder and said that truly talented wizards were in short supply these days, but he wasn't surprised. In the past, the Prince family had been brimming with talent, so it was no wonder that Severus was doing well. It pleased Snape more than anything to know that his mother's family name was worth something to someone like Lucius Malfoy. 

Malfoy asked him what he was doing over the summer, to which he sadly replied that he had to go back to his father's house. Malfoy didn't comment on the disappointment or barely concealed anger when Snape spoke of his father. Instead, he offered to set up the board for a game of Wizard's Chess, unless Severus preferred to return to his book. The thick tome was immediately snapped shut, and Malfoy laughed as he went to collect the game.

*****

Year 2: 1972-1973

Shortly after classes began in September, Malfoy pulled Snape aside before dinner and asked him about the bruises he had been sporting upon his return to school. No one but Lily had ever mentioned them to him before. His mother had always had an answer on hand when she was asked, but no one had ever directed the question at Severus himself. He hated it when she would say, 'I fell', or 'he tripped', or something equally ridiculous, so he simply pulled his robes closed more tightly around him and said nothing.

Malfoy cursed, asking if that filthy Muggle father of his had dared to lay a hand on him, only it wasn't so much a question but a statement of fact, one that was clearly offensive to Malfoy. Snape could only nod, looking up at the older boy, not daring to hope that someone might actually care. When Malfoy put a hand on the back of his neck, it made Snape cringe -- only there was no painful squeeze that followed, no harsh jerk to drag him about, and the blond boy didn't stink of gin. 

Slowly, the tension left his frame as Malfoy's fingers moved up to stroke through his hair. "Never again," Malfoy told him. "If that Muggle lifts a hand to you ever again, I swear he will regret it."

The threat held menace and a promise that sent a shiver through Snape's tiny frame. When Malfoy went on to inform Snape that he was more than welcome to join him at the family estate for holiday breaks in the future, Snape couldn't contain himself any longer. He threw himself at the other boy, arms wrapping around Lucius in a tight hug as he thanked him over and over.

Malfoy returned the embrace, patting Snape on the back until he had regained a measure of composure. "Believe me," he said, "there's no reason for you to be wasting your time on worthless Muggles who have no idea what a wonderful young man is standing before them. There are _many_ witches and wizards out there who would love to make your acquaintance."

Then he offered to make introductions to a few of them.

*****

Year 3: 1973-1974

And so Snape found himself with a rapidly expanding pool of... if not friends, then close associates. By his third year at Hogwarts, everyone who had previously picked on the scrawny, awkward boy now knew that to do so would mean having to deal with Lucius, now a seventh-year. His girlfriend, Narcissa Black, had taken a liking to Severus as well, especially after hearing that her idiot cousin was making a hobby out of tormenting him. Her sister, Bellatrix, didn't care for Snape as much as she loved having an excuse to get back at the other houses on his behalf. She greatly enjoyed it whenever Lucius gave her a name and permission to be out of bounds after hours. Snape didn't care for her much, either, but she was Malfoy's friend and was often at his side. Bellatrix was also the most zealous voice during their group's political discussions. 

A half-dozen other Slytherins had included him in their circle for discussion and debate of current events, and it felt so good to finally belong. He might not understand all of what they were saying, or who the people were that they were talking about, but he nodded along and made note of the key players. It always made Lucius happy when he learned something new about the Ministry's ineffective blundering. Snape didn't look forward to his friend's imminent graduation that spring. He was nervous that he would lose his place among the older students without him, not to mention the fact that Black and Potter still insisted on making his life a living hell even with Malfoy's protection. 

Narcissa only laughed the day that he confided his worries to her. Drawing him near, the fifth-year promised that she and Bella would make anyone sorry who messed with him. She laughed again when she dropped a kiss on his cheek that caused him to turn a very Gryffindor shade of red. He stammered his thanks adorably, then fled.

*****

Year 4: 1974-1975

Fourth year was every bit as horrible as Snape had thought it would be without Lucius there. He had fewer occasions to see Narcissa, who was busy with the stress of her advanced, upper-level course work. Bellatrix and her band of political 'friends' continued to include him and helped to keep the bulk of harassment at bay, except from the Marauders. They took her efforts as a personal challenge rather than a warning. Black and Potter refused to step down from a fight, and they all spent nearly as much time in detention as they did out of it. Lily would scold him for making trouble, but Snape took delight in the fact that she scolded Potter even more harshly. Perhaps if he weren't so snide and smug when that happened, Potter wouldn't have felt the need to lash out at him as much, but it was worth it. 

Then Professor Slughorn took it upon himself to try to stop their in-class bickering with a healthy dose of forced togetherness. 

"There are thirty people in class," James muttered softly. " _Thirty people_ , and I somehow managed to get stuck with _Snivellus_ as a partner for this stupid project."

Snape came out of one of the library stacks to deposit a large armful of books on the table. "I'm not any happier about it than you are. The idea that my grade is dependent on your ability to comprehend the subject matter is more than vaguely disturbing."

"No less disturbing than my knowing that you'll put everyone to sleep with your presentation, and then we'll both fail on account of boredom."

Seating himself next to James, Snape began organizing the books into smaller stacks. "Professor Slughorn said that we were to divide the work evenly between us. Perhaps it would be agreeable if I did the research and wrote up the presentation?"

Catching on, James sat up straighter in his seat, clearly pleased with the idea. "And then I could deliver it to the class. That might work. Except that he said each of us had to do at least part of both."

Snape's mouth turned down in a thoughtful frown as he contemplated the situation. After a moment, he began sifting through the texts he had collected and handed the thinnest book from the stack to James. "Here. I'll give a brief introduction on the topic, then you... dazzle them, or whatever it is that you do." He waved a hand through the air, clearly indicating that he didn't think much of James or his abilities.

James took the book and flipped through its pages a bit before nodding. "We may just get through this. Good work, Snivellus."

"Do you think it might be possible, at least for the time we're forced to associate, that you could either call me by my name or simply have the decency to keep quiet?"

"I suppose, but I can't make any promises about what the others choose to do."

Once again, Snape rolled his eyes and took a calming breath to remain patient with the other boy before opening a book of his own to read. After that, the two sat in what could have been called an almost amiable silence for quite some time. Severus feverishly took notes while James sat with his book propped open, doodling an elaborate image of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's victory over Slytherin. Eventually, Snape asked with his nose still in the book he was reading, "Potter, do you even know what our topic is?"

James looked hurt by the question, but he quickly covered it with a wry grin. "Of course I do. But what does it matter what I think? You'll end up doing a better job of it anyway."

For a moment, Snape appeared torn between agreeing and shooting back a scathing retort. In the end, he settled for saying, "There's more to life than Quidditch, you know."

"Don't lecture me, Snape. You're only better at this because you've been practicing the Dark Arts since before you even came to Hogwarts. I know the sort of friends you keep, Malfoy and that lot. At the rate you're going, you'll probably all end up in Azkaban before you're twenty."

Snape's lip curled back in a snarl, but his heated retort was cut off by another voice greeting them. The two boys looked up to see Lily Evans approaching their table along with an attractive Slytherin girl of the same age. Each was carrying a small stack of library books of her own. While Severus looked guilty for having been caught quarreling, James seemed delighted to see the pair, or at least to see Lily.

"You two look like you're well underway." Lily offered them both a smile before turning to look at Snape. "Mind if we study with you?" 

"Not at all, Evans." James was already in motion, pulling out the chair beside him for Lily. For her part, the Slytherin girl appeared pleased to be able to sit next to Snape. 

Lily began organizing her own materials and asked, "How's it been going for the two of you?"

James cut Snape off again. "Really well, I think. We've got a pretty good plan of attack lined up, and we've found a lot of research material."

Lily looked skeptically to Snape, but when he nodded, her face lit up. "That's great! I didn't think that the two of you would have such an easy go of it."

"It's not _that_ difficult a topic."

The Slytherin girl scoffed at James's remark. "You should consider yourself lucky to have Severus as a partner."

When she batted her eyelids at him, Snape had to choke back a scathing dismissal. Somehow, he managed to answer the girl's questions about her own topic with as much patience as he could muster. After all, Lily's grade depended, at least in part, on how well this imbecile performed. He wasn't about to let her down.

*****

Year 5: 1975-1976

Severus's fourth year had ended with his being excused from his Herbology final to be taken to the headmaster's office and informed of Eileen Snape's passing the night before. As the Muggle police were still investigating the circumstances surrounding her death, the Hogwarts staff informed him that they did not feel comfortable sending him home until it had been decided whether it was natural, accidental, or if something more sinister had transpired. A special dispensation had been granted, allowing Severus to remain at Hogwarts through as much of the summer holiday as would be required. In addition, he was to be excused from his remaining exams. 

Word traveled quickly through the Slytherin House ranks, and before the farewell feast had even begun, Lucius Malfoy had returned to Hogwarts and was in the Headmaster's office making arrangements for Severus to spend the entirety of the summer at his estate. Malfoy proclaimed that Tobias Snape was a disgusting Muggle of the worst sort, and he refused to allow his friend to return to the hovel the man called a 'home' no matter what the authorities did or did not find there. The Muggle had dragged down an exceptional witch of a noble line until she had finally succumbed to the abuse, and he refused to watch his friend suffer a similar fate. 

With the school's blessing, Malfoy opened his family's estate to Severus for the summer, and after visiting, Severus had no desire to return to Spinner's End ever again. 

Malfoy showed him more of the Wizarding world than he had ever known existed. Being underage, he wasn't allowed to do magic -- technically. Fortunately, Malfoy knew all the magically supervised areas around Great Britain, and took Severus to many so that he could see all the advances wizards were making in the country. In return, Severus showed Malfoy some of Muggle life of which he was ignorant: he took Lucius and Narcissa to the cinema, which Narcissa proclaimed 'quixotic' while smiling at him tolerantly. A production of _Madame Butterfly_ went over better, and in return, he was taken to the wizarding equivalent. Their use of magic for sets, props, and effects put the Muggle stage to shame. The Quidditch World Cup, too, was an event like none other that Severus had ever seen. 

Better than anything were Malfoy's friends and family contacts. Severus was beyond self-conscious at the first meeting to which he was brought. He was only a rising fifth-year student and a 'mudblood', yet Malfoy never treated him as such, and he never allowed anyone else to do so, either. All manner of debates were expounded on at these meetings, and while he didn't have much to say on the matters of politics or philosophy, Snape dominated all topics in the realm of academics. Spellwork, creation of new fields, improvement of existing theory, all these and more were topics about which he had strong feelings and opinions, even some working models to show off. Men twice his age shut up to listen. It was everything that Severus had ever wanted. There was even talk of taking his ideas to the man so often starring in their political discussions: Voldemort.

Snape still wasn't entirely certain who the man was, but he knew that it would be a great honor to meet him. Background information on Voldemort was nearly impossible to find. Severus knew that he had been rising steadily in political power among the old families and among the more ambitious of the young ones. He spoke of a return to the old ways, to old traditions, of extracting themselves from the taint of the Muggle world. From what Severus had seen of Muggles such as his father and Lily's family, Voldemort's ideas seemed to have a considerable amount of merit. 

He also knew that Dumbledore was politically against Voldemort's position; however, the headmaster held up bullies like Potter and Black. There was no way that Snape could back that sort of behavior. Slughorn was the only member of the school staff who had ever actively made an effort to make him feel like he was worth anything. Even so, his intelligence wasn't enough to win him a place in Slughorn's 'special club'. Only those with winning talents _and_ winning physical features ever made it into his circle of photos. And although he was growing up, Severus wasn't filling out. He was still thin. Less so, now that Malfoy's house elves were constantly following him about trying to feed him. One in particular repeatedly expressed concern for his health and brought him sandwiches without his needing to ask. 

Even so, he only seemed to be growing in height and in facial features, all sharp angles and a large nose. 'Roman' and 'aristocratic' were the words Narcissa used when he grumbled about his appearance, and when she would say she thought him handsome and kiss his cheek, Severus would blush fiercely. Fortunately, Malfoy never seemed to be upset when his fiancée complimented him or took his arm with an affectionate smile. Even better, Malfoy showered him with signs of affection as well: gentle touches that never turned violent, words of pride and respect that weren't snide insults in disguise, and inclusion in his life and his home.

Without a doubt, it was the best summer of his life.

It didn't take long for Hogwarts to rip Snape's fledgling self-assurance from him. Black, Potter, and their friends spent month after month finding new and creative ways to be cruel to him. The entire school year passed in a whirlwind of threats and insults from both sides. Although Dumbledore insisted that Black's grossly unsubtle attempt to kill Snape was nothing more than a boyhood prank, Potter was hailed as a hero for 'saving him'. That more or less confirmed for Snape that his life was only worth so much silver polish, as Black had been given a mere few weeks' detention buffing trophies and armor. Even Lily seemed to agree, telling him that he should be _grateful_ to James-sodding-Potter for saving his life, while insulting the friends who were the only ones ever to stick up for him. 

Then everything came to a head after finishing the last of his OWLs. He was hung upside down, his clothes and undergarments removed for the amusement of Potter and his peers. Through it all, his dignity might have survived somehow if it had only been the Marauders there laughing. The crowd of classmates, many of whom were all but strangers, jeered at him and caused him to burn with mortification. 

Then Lily was there, standing up for him when no one else would, when he couldn't protect himself. That humiliation was worse than anything else: knowing that she had seen him for what he really was. Despite all his intelligence, all his magical abilities, Snape felt that his father's Muggle blood really _had_ weakened him. He was no match for a pair of purebloods like Potter and Black. He hated Tobias for ruining him, and he hated his mother for marrying a Muggle, for not leaving the bastard before it killed her, and he hated Lily Evans for making him feel that way when just last summer, everything had been perfect.

One word, 'mudblood', and he knew that everything was over between them. Everything that they had ever had was gone. The look in Lily's eyes in that endless moment as she stared at him before turning and stomping away left Severus with no questions about it. There had been a number of missteps in their friendship over the years, but it was never going to be all right again.

*****

Year 6: 1976-1977

By the spring of his sixth year, Severus knew it was a fact. He and Lily would never be friends again, and it was doubtful that they would ever be on civil terms, either. Every attempt he made to apologize was refused. The owls that he sent to her over the summer were all sent back, and every attempt to speak with her in person at Hogwarts was blocked. The Marauders all went out of their way to keep them apart. 

In the library one day, he almost worked up the courage to go to her, to beg her forgiveness. She was his first friend, and his only one for a long time. More than that, he genuinely regretted what he'd said. He hated himself, and he'd transferred that anger onto her. She hadn't deserved it. When he spotted her across the room, she was alone: no Black, no Potter. He stood to go to her, but then Lupin sat down beside her instead. The damned werewolf, the one who had nearly ripped him to pieces, was sitting beside her. Not only did Dumbledore value his precious Gryffindors more highly than they deserved, but it gutted him that Lily did, too.

Snape clenched his hands into fists, waiting, hoping that Lupin would leave so that he could somehow salvage things. Lily's gaze met his at one point as they spoke, and the coldness he saw there left him shaken and raw. Rather than leaving, Lupin began reviewing their schoolwork with her, pointing out something in one of the texts spread out around them.

With a quiet laugh, Lily replied to what he'd said. "I can't picture James Potter as the sort with enough patience to do any 'intricate thinking'. He all but sleeps through Potions."

"That's not entirely his fault. When Professor Slughorn and Severus start talking, everyone just sorts of gets lost along the way."

"Severus is brilliant. If only he were a bit more personable -- or had an _ounce_ of understanding of other people's feelings."

Remus lowered his head and said softly, "We all have our faults. You shouldn't judge Severus too harshly. I'm sure he has his reasons for being the way he is."

Lily reached out again, this time putting her hand atop his, and it was too much for Snape. He slammed his books shut and stormed away, feeling that his pride couldn't take any more. 

True to his word to the Headmaster, Severus had never shared the details of what had happened that night with anyone It would have been so simple to defy the headmaster's wishes. A few words to Lucius or Bellatrix, and both Black and Potter would be dead. It wasn't something he wanted to think on too closely, but he was well aware of the fact that his friends were more than capable of murdering the hateful prats. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to ask for their help. A part of him was frightened by the power that he held. Lucius had a viciously protective streak, and Bella was just vicious, full stop. 

That evening, he placed a fire-call to Lucius and made plans to meet him over the next Hogsmeade weekend. He needed to get away from everything and be among real friends again. Malfoy even informed him that he intended to introduce Severus to a 'special friend' the next time that he was in the village. The promise of finally meeting the elusive Voldemort significantly brightened Severus's mood. 

Two weekends later, Snape found himself in a private residence at the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village. While the other students shopped and browsed the magical center of town, Snape stood before Voldemort for the first time. The man was every bit as charismatic as Malfoy had led him to believe. Most surprising was how much Voldemort already knew about him, from his Muggle upbringing to his performance in school. When he eventually worked up the courage to ask, Voldemort replied simply that Lucius had spoken so highly of him that he had been fascinated, and that he had hoped for some time now that Severus would meet with him.

Hours passed in exuberant conversation as Voldemort questioned Snape about life in Hogwarts, his opinion on the current curriculum, and what sorts of changes he would make, were he the school's headmaster. In the end, Voldemort asked for a personal favor, the thought of which left Snape fairly lightheaded with disbelief. Voldemort proceeded to explain that he had several close, personal friends with children in attendance at Hogwarts. All were Slytherins, of course. He asked if Snape would mind keeping an eye on them. A few in particular were good boys but were either impulsive or not academically motivated. There was already enough unfounded tarnish on the good name of their House without perfectly avoidable incidents preventing future students from wanting to be sorted into the best House in Hogwarts.

Snape eagerly agreed and promised to meet him again with an update once he'd introduced himself to the other students in question. Voldemort smiled at him and thanked him for his help.

The moment that he was alone again with Lucius, he flung himself at the other man, laughing with happiness. He was so pleased by how the day had gone that he didn't even mind Malfoy's insufferable smugness and insistence that he had known all along that Snape would do well in Voldemort's 'court'. After that, it wasn't difficult to get Snape to join the group in regular meetings, and despite his being only a sixth year student, his standing among Voldemort's inner circle quickly rose.

Towards the end of the summer before his final year, Snape sought out his friend, now Mrs Narcissa Malfoy, who had insisted along with her husband that he was to remain at their estate at least until his graduation. When Snape asked for her advice regarding Voldemort, she fell into a thoughtful silence before responding that her husband held the man in the highest regard.

"I already know what Lucius thinks," Snape stated, rolling his eyes, which caused Narcissa to smile indulgently at him. "I'm asking what _you_ think of him."

"I..." She hesitated to consider her words carefully before responding. "I do not agree with all of the things that he talks about. It seems unnecessarily cruel to pick on Muggles for simply having been born inferior to us. Ones like your father most certainly deserve whatever is coming to them, but that would also be true of any wizard who should behave so disgracefully. However, with regard to other matters, such as his position on traditional wizarding values, I agree completely."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. He was silent for some time, looking down into his cup as for answers before finally saying, "He's asked me to accept his Mark."

His shy comment caused Narcissa's eyebrows to rise in surprise. "That's certainly unusual. My understanding has always been that Voldemort's followers come to him and pledge themselves to his service. Bella tells me that _very_ few are considered desirable enough for the man to actively seek them out himself."

Snape's cheeks colored at the compliment, and he gave a weak shrug of his shoulders, uncertain what to say.

"Voldemort must think very highly of you and your skills, Severus." Narcissa's face softened into an affectionate smile, and she placed a hand on his arm. "Of course, Lucius and I have always been aware of just how special you are. Voldemort would be a fool not to notice it as well."

"Do you think I should? Accept his Mark and pledge myself to him?"

"How do you feel about it?"

"When I'm with him, I feel... important. Like what I think matters to him. He says that he _needs_ me. I can't imagine someone like him actually needing anyone like me, but why would he lie about such a thing?"

"It sounds to me that you've already decided what to do. Bella seems quite pleased to have his ear, but she is... well... She's..."

A sly grin spread across Snape's face. "Not entirely sane?"

"Very different from you," Narcissa replied diplomatically. "While Lucius enjoys discussing political activism and talking about necessary changes from within the Ministry, Bella actually seems to _relish_ \--"

When she put a hand to her mouth and looked away, Snape said softly, "Bellatrix is family. You cannot choose your family, and you love them, even when you feel that you shouldn't."

"You're a good man, Severus. Let no one else tell you differently."

"Do you ever think of joining him as well?"

"Despite my sister's constant ravings about Voldemort, I have already 'pledged' myself to someone else. Lucius is the man I want to spend my life with, not him. I wish I could help you, Severus, but this is a decision you're going to have to make for yourself." 

His heart still heavy with indecision, Snape nodded, and Narcissa smiled fondly at him once again. "Whatever you decide, you won't lose Lucius's respect or mine. I'm grateful to you for keeping Lucius company at his 'old boys' club' while they debate Ministry politics all night. Whether you accept or refuse his offer, I would appreciate it if you would look after my husband and help keep him out of trouble."

Snape couldn't help laughing at that. "I promise, I'll do my best to remind Lucius of his curfew so that he doesn't stay out too late playing with the other children."

"I swear, when he and his friends get together, some nights they have _absolutely_ no concept of time." She shook her head with a long-suffering sigh. "Lucius is lucky that I love him so much."

"I do, too," he confessed softly, unable to lift his gaze up to meet hers. "Love him, that is."

"I know," Narcissa replied. "I've always known."

Rather than reassuring him, her response only seemed to confuse him. He could feel his face burning, but he needed to tell her the truth. Now that he'd started, there was no turning back. "I think about him sometimes when I'm... alone. A lot of the time, actually." 

"I'm sure Lucius would be flattered."

Her words caused the puzzled frown on Severus's face to deepen. "I know it's wrong, but I can't help how I feel. Aren't you angry with me?"

Narcissa almost laughed until she realized that he truly expected her to rail at him. "Darling, there is nothing wrong with caring for someone. Lucius is incredibly fond of you, as am I. I trust you, and I trust my husband, so there's nothing to be angry about."

"Thank you."

His expression was so serious that she couldn't keep from teasing him in response. "So does this mean that you don't have a crush on that redheaded girl any longer?"

"Lily?" Severus's face scrunched up in disgust at the thought. "Where would you get an idea like that?"

"The way you were always following her around and talking about her. That's usually a pretty good clue."

"She's my friend, and I love her, but not-- not like that."

"It's for the best, I suppose. Friendship is one thing, but the idea of your ever becoming seriously involved in a relationship with a Gryffindor--" She shuddered for effect even as he rolled his eyes at her. "It just doesn't bear thinking about."

*****

Year 7: 1977-1978

During his final journey on the Hogwarts Express, Snape sat in a car with several other boys, all of whom had also pledged themselves to Voldemort that summer. Or rather _Lord_ Voldemort, as he now preferred. The skin of his left arm tingled slightly, and touching the spot on his sleeve covering Lord Voldemort's Mark sent a warm, pleasant feeling through his body. At the last meeting of the summer, Lord Voldemort had made it clear that Snape was to be his eyes and ears at Hogwarts, and that the others were to do as he told them. Lord Voldemort had approved of all his suggestions for training the younger boys outside of classes. The samples of original spellwork that he'd come up with had made Lord Voldemort incredibly pleased, and a schedule had been devised for him to report their progress on Hogsmeade weekends. It had also been implied that any news from the school's administration that Snape could conveniently 'overhear' would be appreciated.

Who needed an ungrateful friend like Lily Evans?

There were plenty of others now who looked up to him and depended on him. Who cared that she'd begun going out with James-bloody-Potter? She would see, once the newness of it wore off, once Potter showed her what a terrible person he truly was underneath all of Dumbledore's false praise. Lily would realize eventually, because she was a brilliant, talented witch, and Snape couldn't wait to watch their relationship fall apart. He wasn't perfect, and he had said thoughtless things to her, so when she finally told Potter to sod off, he wouldn't hold their dalliance against her. Even though she had refused all his attempts to apologize to her, when Lily finally put it all together, Severus would be the bigger person and would forgive her. He wouldn't shut her out; he was better than that. Even if he did sometimes grouse to himself about how he hated her for making him miserable for so long, he knew that it wasn't true. She had been his first real friend; she had been his best friend for years, and he cared about her despite their falling out and despite her stupid infatuation with Potter. He still loved her, and he probably always would.

*****

The Great Hall was filled with people and music, bubbles and floating hearts dancing through the air overhead. At one end of the hall, Black stood next to a leggy brunette, but he was mostly ignoring her in favor of talking to Lupin. Peter Pettigrew was behind them, trying and failing to be a part of the group. Across the hall, Wilkes, Avery, Rosier, and Snape were among another half-dozen teenagers of varying ages. Rather than paying attention to his charges, Snape had his eyes squarely planted on James and Lily as they turned around the floor, making doe eyes at each other. Periodically, his gaze wandered to where Sirius stood to ensure that the other boy wasn't causing trouble.

Avery and the other Death Eaters were whispering amongst themselves about what they would like to do if only the chaperones would become distracted for a few minutes. Heaving a sigh, Snape turned on them and whispered in a heated tone, "Don't be stupid. We only have to suffer through a few more months of this. How would you explain it to Lord Voldemort if you were held back for fighting?"

The others looked appropriately chastened by his words, and Snape sighed again, more softly this time. "Just make sure you don't start anything, and if Black or Potter makes any trouble, _try_ not to get caught."

The other boys laughed cruelly, pleased at what they thought was permission to do what they wanted. Disgusted, Snape walked away under the pretense of examining the contents of the refreshment table. With a critical eye, he examined the three large bowls of punch, one of which was smoking slightly. McGonagall appeared beside him as he reached for the ladle of the bowl that he deemed least offensive.

"How are you this evening, Mr Snape?" she asked congenially. Snape looked at her questioningly but managed a reasonably polite reply that he was fine. "If you'll pardon my saying so, Mr Snape, you don't appear particularly 'fine'."

"There are far more interesting and productive things that could be done with my time than standing about idly, watching hormonal, swooning berks prancing about in hopes of finding transitory happiness in pink bubbles and lace."

"Then why come to the ball?" she asked.

"Why are _you_ here?" he asked in response, leaning against the table as he faced her squarely. "This can't be 'fun' for you, either, yet here you stand."

"I, Mr Snape, am chaperoning. I'm required to be here."

Snape gave a small nod that said he understood perfectly well. "It's important to keep the children in line," he replied rather cryptically, looking past her to watch Lily instead. She was practically wrapped around James now, laughing as he whispered something to her.

Taking a step to the side, McGonagall planted herself between him and the others so that he would be forced to look at her. "Yes it is, Mr Snape," she stated firmly. It was impossible to miss her meaning, that in her eyes, he was being held responsible for the actions of his housemates. "It would certainly be welcome to get feedback from you and your... 'friends'. We want to make sure that school events are enjoyable for all the students."

"Of course you do." Snape's voice had gone from skeptical to cold. "Hogwarts has a long-standing history of ensuring that _all_ students feel welcome and are treated with dignity and respect. Now, if there's nothing else, Professor, I ought to get back to my associates. I wouldn't want any misunderstandings to arise while I'm otherwise occupied."

He turned to walk away, and McGonagall shook her head sadly. "It's such a pity, Severus. You're such a bright and gifted young man."

"I find it very interesting, Professor, that no one questions those traits in Ravenclaw students, yet the exact same qualities are frowned upon in Slytherins." He half-turned to face her again. "'There was never a witch nor wizard who went bad who wasn't from Slytherin.' Isn't that what they all tell the first years? Why should I bother attempting to break from tradition? Have a pleasant evening, Professor."

*****

Despite the constant hardships of his new 'leadership' position in charge of a herd of brainless, impulsive Slytherins, Snape's seventh year was by far the least eventful of any that he spent at Hogwarts. Potter's attention was almost entirely devoted to disgusting displays of affection, and without his help, Black lacked the motivation to maximize his potential as a hateful bastard. Lupin and Pettigrew weren't nearly as cruel, or at least not as creative as Black and Potter were when together, so the Gryffindors spent far less time picking on him than before. Lord Voldemort continued to shower him with praise during Hogsmeade weekends, and Lucius had insisted that he remain at Malfoy Manor after graduation until he could find gainful employment and afford a place of his own.

Severus was unspeakably grateful that Narcissa didn't seem to mind sharing her husband or her home, as he spent a considerable amount of his free time with the couple. He kept Lucius company on the late nights that Lord Voldemort required their presence, and he invaded their home every holiday break. Having his two friends so close made him feel safe and wanted in a way that he couldn't remember ever having felt before, so it shouldn't have surprised him to wake up on the first morning after graduation tucked in bed between the pair.

Cheerful celebration had led to wine, to more celebration, to even more wine. Somewhere in the mix, Lucius had informed him that for some time now, his wife had been wanting Severus to fuck her. He'd said it quite casually, as if he were speaking about the weather. Snape had turned slowly to look at him, certain that he had not heard correctly. Rather than seeming angry or even upset, Lucius was smiling at him, a fondness in his expression that made Snape's breath catch. He looked from one Malfoy to the other, uncertainty growing as the pair only seemed amused by his hesitation. 

"You don't seem upset by that."

"Why should he be?" Narcissa came up behind him, her arms encircling Snape's waist. "It would hardly be fair of him to begrudge me my desire when Lucius has wanted to have you since before you were sitting your OWLs. On several occasions, he's told me some truly filthy things he's wished that he could do with you."

Unwilling to let his wife have all the fun of embarrassing their younger friend, Malfoy asked, "Have you never once thought of what it might be like as you've slept here, only a few rooms away from our bed?"

Flushing from hairline to collar, Snape nodded even though he was unable to give voice to the number of nighttime fantasies he'd had over the years. Malfoy came closer, pressing up against his backside, and Snape let out a moan of approval. In response, Narcissa stroked a hand up and down the length of his arm and smiled around him at her husband.

"He truly is delightful, isn't he, Lucius? What other sounds do you think you can get him to make?"

Rather than hazarding a guess, Malfoy proceeded to respond through demonstration. When Snape made no protest, Lucius wasted no time in getting his young friend undressed. The next few hours flew by in an intense whirlwind as he was passed between Lucius and Narcissa, each attempting to outperform the other in their efforts to pleasure Severus, each getting off on watching their spouse with the other man. Through it all, Snape did his best to give as good as he got. Lucius took a considerable amount of enjoyment from his long, dexterous fingers, and Narcissa was left clinging to her husband, unable to do anything besides repeat his name breathlessly as she learned the number of things that Severus was capable of doing with his tongue.

Exhausted and thoroughly sated, Snape eventually found sleep nestled between Lucius and Narcissa. If acquiring 'gainful employment' meant that he would have to leave, Snape would have happily lived out his days as one of the family's house elves. He would have done anything to have this every night, to drift off into the most pleasant sleep he had ever known.

*****

1980

After graduation, Snape had several good-natured arguments with Lucius over where to begin his higher education before finally applying to a Potions apprenticeship in Edinburgh. A Potions master there agreed to take him on as a student and to assist with his research. Rather than finding his own lodgings in Scotland, both Lucius and Narcissa insisted that it would be simpler for Severus to remain on with them and to floo to and from his work. Then he would have access to the extensive Malfoy library for his research, he wouldn't have to worry about his finances while still a student, and he would be easily available should Lord Voldemort have need of him.

Even after the announcement of Narcissa's pregnancy, Severus remained on at Malfoy manor. Because he was so happy, naturally that heralded the beginning of his life's slow decline into utter chaos. As the months passed, Lord Voldemort's charm gave way to instability. Harmless protests against dangerous Muggles became threats, then violence, then murders. 

During the same week that he first expressed his concerns to Lucius and Narcissa, Snape found himself with direct orders from the Dark Lord, as he was now known, to return to Hogwarts as a teacher. He'd been told that his role was to spy on Dumbledore, but he knew that it was because he had dared to question the man. Somehow, he had found out. There was only coldness now in Voldemort's eyes as he gave this new assignment to the man he'd once favored above so many others.

It should have angered him, being dismissed and brushed aside. Yet all Snape felt was desperation to be once again in the Dark Lord's good graces, to be looked upon with respect and pride. That's what he told himself as he hovered around the keyhole of one grimy room at the Hog's Head Inn, listening to the eerie voice of the other teaching applicant. _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."_

He never expected that news to cause the Dark Lord to proclaim Lily Potter's life forfeit.

*****

Snape stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of the leafless trees. He was panting, pacing in a tight circle, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air, and some unseen magic forced Snape to his knees and sent his wand flying.

"Don't kill me!"

Dumbledore sounded angry and insulted as he replied tersely, "That was not my intention. Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

"No-- no message." Snape was trembling, still kneeling and unable to lift his gaze from the stones beneath him. "I'm here on my own account. I-- I come with a warning-- no, a request-- _please!_ "

Dumbledore's mouth turned down in a heavy frown, skepticism etched into his features. "What request could a Death Eater make of me?"

"The-- the prophecy-- the prediction... Trelawney..."

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything-- everything I heard!" said Snape, voice shaking as much as the rest of him. "That is why-- it is for that reason-- he thinks it means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy did not refer to a woman," Dumbledore shot back heatedly. "It spoke of a boy born at the end of July."

"You know what I mean!" Snape found it within himself to look up, and rather than anger, his face was filled with sorrow, regret, and no small amount of fear. "He thinks it means _her son_ , he is going to hunt her down, kill them all."

"If she means so much to you," Dumbledore replied, his face twisted in an unkind sneer, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask your master for mercy, Lily's life in exchange for the son?"

"I have asked him! I've begged the Dark Lord for mercy, but he has none."

"You disgust me." Dumbledore's voice was dripping with contempt, causing Snape to shrink in on himself. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore as if that answer should be evident. Finally, he managed to find his voice again, saying, "Hide them, hide them _all_. Keep them safe. I beg you."

When it seemed that Dumbledore was going to turn away from him, Snape added, near tears, "Have you no more mercy in you than the Dark Lord?"

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In return?" Snape gaped at Dumbledore in silence for a long moment before resigning himself to his fate as he said, "Anything."

*****

1981

Snape hated Cokeworth. It was a disgusting, dirty town, and his father's house was equally filthy. But it was _his_ filthy house now that Tobias was cold and in the ground. After spending far too much time with property solicitors and bill collectors, Severus had fled the house and begun walking in no particular direction. He followed the flow of Muggle foot traffic, idly considering the notion of finding some form of takeaway, at least until the site of a familiar shock of red hair caused him to stop and stare. 

Lily Evans, now Lily Potter, was pushing a pram down the lane and humming to herself as she smiled down at her happily cooing baby. As soon as there was a pause in traffic, Snape hurried across the street and jogged towards them. He called out her name; however, once Snape had her attention, he no longer knew what to do. 

"Lily, hello. You-- You look well." His words faltered as she eyed him critically. Gesturing to the pram, he tried again. "Never did get the chance to offer you congratulations."

"No, you never did."

As he stared at the child, a quizzical expression clouded Snape's face, and again he was struck with an uncertainty as to what he ought to say. 

"Severus?"

"Hm?" He looked up to find Lily watching him expectantly. "He-- He's very quiet. Is that normal?" 

She laughed. The baby liked the sound of it and smiled broadly, reaching up and waving his little arms in the air. Lily held one hand out, and the baby grasped one of her fingers, burbling happily once more. Lily said that Harry was remarkably well behaved, to which Snape replied that at least he looked like his father, if nothing else. Lily laughed again, softer this time. 

When Snape neither said nor did anything to fill the silence, she finally prompted him by asking, "Was there something that you wanted?"

"Wanted? No... Just to say hello. And to make sure you had been in touch with Dumbledore recently." Saying that much clearly made Snape uncomfortable, and he didn't elaborate further except to say, "He promised me that he would speak to you."

Lily's tolerant smile morphed into an expression of concern. "We've spoken with him, yes. Why would _you_ have been speaking with Albus Dumbledore? My understanding was that you and your friends don't care for the man very much."

"That's a bit of an understatement." Snape hesitated, trying to choose his words carefully. "I've... heard things, Lily. Things that made me extremely concerned about your safety." As an afterthought, he dipped his head toward the pram and added, "And his."

"You play a dangerous game, Severus. Going behind Voldemort's back to tell his secrets to the head of the Order? He won't look kindly on that, should he find out."

Snape cringed at the Dark Lord's name, but his voice was insistent as he said, "I'm not _playing_ at anything. This is deadly serious. Dumbledore _promised_ me that he would speak with you, that he would keep your family safe."

Lily was silent a moment, once again attempting to evaluate the man before her before deciding that his concern was genuine. "Albus has said that he thinks Harry might be in danger from your friends, but no definitive plans have been made yet. That's why we're here, actually. I wanted my mum to be able to see little Harry in case that changes, and we can't come again for a while. James thinks that Albus is being overly cautious, but I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear that Sirius agrees with you completely."

"As utterly revolting as it is for me to say that I agree on _anything_ with Sirius Black, you need to listen to him. You shouldn't be out in the open like this." 

"Out in broad daylight, surrounded by people? Severus, I appreciate your concern; it's touching, but we'll be fine."

Before he could say anything further, Harry reached out and grabbed Snape by the hand. The baby then proceeded to stuff as much of it as he could manage into his tiny mouth, at which Snape let out a fabulous noise of surprise. Lily seemed to find the whole thing quite amusing. 

When Snape made no move against her son, she smiled at him almost as warmly as she had when they had been in school together. "If I were you, Severus, I'd be more worried about what your friends would think, seeing you here with us like this."

"I don't care what they'd think of it. You're more important; you've _always_ been more important to me than--"

"Don't you touch him!" James came out of nowhere, clocking Snape across the jaw hard enough to send him reeling back, before planting himself between Snape and his family. 

Still shocked from the slobber on his hand, Snape took a moment to react, growling at James. "I'm not the one you need to be worried about, you idiot! If you weren't so hopelessly inept, I wouldn't have been able to get anywhere near your family! If I can, then _he_ certainly can, too. If you'd listened to Dumbledore--"

"You've made your choices in life, and you can't have it both ways. Going around murdering Muggles, then pretending you care about what happens to any of us?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Snape sneered, his tone scathing. "Per usual, you just make assumptions and then go about spouting them off to the world as fact."

"It's a _fact_ that you're a Death Eater, which isn't a surprise to anyone." James's gaze darted left and right as if trying to calculate the number of people immediately near them, should he need to draw his wand. "Stay away from my son." 

Before Snape could bite back a retort of his own, Lily stepped between them. "All right, that's enough! James, take Harry and give us a minute."

Potter looked like he was about to protest, but in the end, he thought better of it and did as he was told. "Stay away from our son," he repeated as he turned the pram to push it further down the pavement away from them. 

"I'm sorry about James, but he's right. You had options, and you made your choices. It would probably be best for everyone if you didn't try to contact us again."

"I didn't mean to-- I didn't--" Whatever he was trying to apologize for, he couldn't find the proper words. 

"You did mean it, Severus. You may not have meant to offend me, but I think you did mean what you said." Lily shook her head sadly. "I appreciate that you're trying, that you want things to be how they used to be, but that's never going to happen when you're running around in masks, terrorizing Muggles and wizards with 'dirty blood'."

"I've never truly cared about blood; you have to know that." Snape reached out and grabbed hold of her arm so she couldn't leave. "I never meant what I said. I was hurt and embarrassed, and I lashed out because I was ashamed of _myself_ , not because of you! I regret that day more than anything else in my life."

"A Death Eater who regrets insulting a Muggle-born? You shouldn't say such things, Severus, or you'll be branded a blood-traitor as well. I imagine the Dark Lord won't take kindly to that."

"Why is it that you can forgive Potter for all that he's done, but not me?"

"Because James loves _all_ of me, and he doesn't have a _skull_ tattooed onto his arm."

"What else was there? You left; you wouldn't speak to me. There was no one else."

"You were my best friend, and I loved you so much, Severus. I still do. That's why you make me so angry, and frustrated, and sad." 

"Please, _please_ be careful. Take this seriously, and do what Dumbledore tells you. He promised to keep all of you safe."

She leaned up to be able to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "Maybe if all this madness ever ends, if we ever meet again after all the killing and terror is over, maybe we can try again. Until then, I wish you all the best in whatever it is you decide to do with your life."

"I love you, too."

"Goodbye, Severus."

*****

Snape apparated to Godric's Hollow, standing warily in front of the Potters' ruined house, with half of the roof blown off from the force of an explosion within. Fear was evident on his face as he forced himself to move forward towards the building. The glass of the windows on the upper floor had been blown out, littering the doorstep with a fine powder that twinkled in the lamplight. The front door had been blasted open, black scorch marks marring the splintered surface. Peering around the doorjamb, Snape looked about the deserted sitting room before carefully making his way inside.

There was no one on the first floor, so Snape steeled himself before making his way to the stairs leading up. From outside, the second floor had looked to have the majority of the damage. Snape let out a shaky breath as James Potter's lifeless body came into view at the top of the stairs. For all his complaints of hating the man, Snape felt sick as he inched his way past his former classmate, who was sprawled across the landing and topmost steps. Potter's glasses were askew on his nose, his mouth open in a now wordless cry.

Snape's steps slowed, but he pressed on down the corridor. There was another room with the light on, the door broken off its hinges. As he approached, he could see a mess strewn across the floor, could hear the boy within wailing in despair. Just inside the room, Lily came into view, and Snape's legs gave out beneath him. He barely kept his feet, catching himself on the changing station beside the door, creating even more disorder in the room as its contents went flying. Little Harry Potter stood in his crib, his chubby hands reaching through the slats towards Lily's form where she lay sprawled on the floor.

Snape staggered forward one step, then another, before falling gracelessly to the ground. He pulled Lily up with shaking arms and cradled her to his chest, sobbing heavily as he rocked her body and held it close to him. Baby Harry settled for a moment as the new person came near, as he got Lily up, but then as Snape continued to cry, Harry knew something was desperately wrong and began his own wailing again with renewed vigor. Eventually, Snape seemed to realize that he wasn't alone in his grief. He carefully laid Lily's body back on the floor before crawling over to the crib.

"It'll be all right." He made a valiant attempt to quiet his own weeping so that he could comfort the boy, whom he lifted from the crib to hold awkwardly. "Hush now. Remember me, Harry? Your Mum's my friend. We met a couple of months ago in Cokeworth."

Realizing how ridiculous it was to try to reason with a screaming infant, he let out a soft curse. "No, of course you don't, you're only fifteen months old and have no idea what's going on... We can't stay here; it isn't safe. We have to go. Now. _Please_ stop crying."

Harry began to quiet as Snape continued to pat his back, rocking him. His wailing gave way to hiccups and snuffling, and Harry buried his tear-soaked face in the crook of Snape's neck, clinging to him. Silence settled over the room for a moment, until Snape began to walk away from Lily; then Harry's full-on crying began anew, and he reached out with chubby arms for his mother. That pitiful sight was too much for Snape. Tears streamed down his face as he maneuvered them out of the room and down the hall.

Snape had the forethought to cover the child's eyes before they reached the landing, stepping around James with care so as not to jostle the boy. He made it down the stairs on shaky legs before a clatter at the door caused Snape to draw his wand. He attempted to put as much of himself as possible between the boy and this unknown attacker.

Rather than a Death Eater, Albus Dumbledore stood in the entryway, his own wand aimed at what he thought would be Voldemort. "Severus! What have you--"

Unable to hold it aloft any longer, Snape let his wand fell to the floorboards with a clatter. "You promised me," he said, his accusation barely more than a harsh whisper as he sank to his knees.

Rushing forward, Dumbledore took the baby from Snape's arms. Rather than being comforted by this, Harry began kicking as he screamed, reaching desperately for Snape. Dumbledore whispered a few words over him, and Harry yawned before closing his eyes in a peaceful slumber. "Are there others here?"

Snape shook his head wordlessly, and Dumbledore's expression eased somewhat. "Even so, it isn't safe."

Snape's grief gave way to a flash of anger, and he managed to find his feet again so that he wouldn't have to look up at the older wizard. "I _know_ that, you incompetent old fool! I _told_ you that from the beginning! I told you they weren't safe. I told you they needed your protection, and you left them isolated, out in the middle of nowhere for the Dark Lord to find at his convenience!"

"This house was as protected as the Order could possibly make it. There was no way that Voldemort could have just stumbled upon it."

Their discussion was cut short by the arrival of Rubeus Hagrid, who looked every bit as stricken as Snape at the loss of the Potters. Dumbledore instructed the half-giant to care for the infant until more permanent arrangements could be made for him. Once he had Hagrid's tearful agreement, he took Snape firmly by the elbow, apparating away as the first rays of morning began to touch the sky.

In the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Snape was still in tears, leaning against the stone wall, barely keeping himself upright. He was unable to hold still as he stood there, his whole body trembling. He tried stuffing his hands into his pockets, then bringing them up to hug himself in an attempt to stop shaking. At last, he settled for curling his hands into fists at his sides.

"You said you would keep her safe." The last word cracked, his accusation ending in a sob that shook his shoulders.

Dumbledore's shoulders were hunched, his expression tired and filled with sorrow as he looked out the window over the school grounds. "Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person, Severus." His words were filled with an accusation of his own as he added, "Rather like you. The boy, at least, survives for now. We'll need to find him somewhere safe to stay as quickly as possible."

"He doesn't need protection." His voice broke again, grief battling with anger. "The Dark Lord is gone."

"The Dark Lord will return. And when he does, the boy will be in terrible danger." His words caused Snape to collapse in on himself, a curtain of hair coming down to shield his face from the other man's accusing stare. "He has her eyes. If you truly loved her..." 

Snape looked up at him once more, and his expression of despair became one of surprise that Dumbledore knew of his feelings. That quickly gave way to anger, and he raised a hand to point emphatically at the Headmaster. " _No one_ can know. Promise me that, and I shall do whatever is required of me to protect Potter's son."

The vehemence of the man's words took Dumbledore by surprise, and he approached Snape in that fatherly way that he liked to use when attempting to cajole students into agreeing with him. "Promise? That I should never reveal the best of you, Severus?" 

Snape nearly broke down again, a pained expression on his face as he insisted, "Your word."

"Even when you risk your life every day to protect the boy?" Dumbledore looked into Snape's anguished face and saw only certainty there, and he sighed. "If you insist..."

*****

Following a rather protracted trial before the Wizengamot, Dumbledore was finally able to clear Snape's name and offer him a position at Hogwarts, although he was to replace Professor Slughorn in Potions rather than taking on the DADA position for which he had originally applied. Oddly, the Head of Gryffindor seemed genuinely pleased to see him back. McGonagall welcomed him and proceeded to show him around the castle and grounds, as if he hadn't graduated only three years prior. She introduced him to the staff and actually made him feel that he would be welcome there, despite the faint outline of a skull and snake that still remained visible on his arm.

The second-greatest regret of Snape's life was that on that chilly fall day in 1980, he had gone to Albus Dumbledore rather than to the Scotswoman, that McGonagall hadn't been the one to arrange protection for Lily and her baby. Although she didn't have the political clout and connections that the Headmaster possessed, Snape fully believed that she would have taken him more seriously when he said that the Potters were in danger and needed protecting. McGonagall knew the depths of his loathing for James Potter, and she would have understood that nothing less than dire peril would ever have caused him to encourage Potter's protection. Instead, he felt, Dumbledore had dismissed him and downplayed the urgency of the situation.

Hogwarts Castle was virtually impregnable, being home to some of the world's most powerful witches and wizards -- although clearly not the brightest. Rather than keeping the Potters _safe_ , Dumbledore allowed them to live in isolation for over a year, out in some godforsaken village with no access to assistance. McGonagall might not have been able to prevent the Wizengamot from sentencing him to Azkaban as Dumbledore had, but even that would have had its advantages. Snape had no doubt that he would have died in prison for his crimes, but not before he got his hands on Sirius Black. Too many nights, the only thing that had gotten him through to the next morning was the fantasy of being able to kill Black for the years of torture, for betraying Lily and her innocent son.

*****


	2. Chapter 2

Year 10: 1991-1992

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As this involves very little foolish wand-waving, many of you will hardly believe it to be magic. I don't expect you to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses."

To his right, Snape could see his godson grinning smugly from his seat, and he had to fight the urge to give the boy a fond smile in return. While Draco had shown no real passion for potions, they had spent a considerable amount of time over the summer before school discussing the basics of ingredients preparation and interactions. At least _one_ student here wouldn't be a complete cock-up.

Drawing his thoughts away from Lucius's son, Snape pulled his robes more tightly around himself and crossed his arms as he looked down his nose at the twenty-some students seated before him. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death." He paused a moment before adding, not too hopefully, "Assuming you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

In the second row, another student caught his eye. Rather than looking up at him attentively as the rest of the class was, Harry Potter's attention was focused on his notebook. So like his father, absent-mindedly sketching in his workbook instead of focusing on what was important. "Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to _not pay attention_."

The bushy-haired girl next to Potter elbowed him, and the boy lifted his head in confusion.

"Mr. Potter. Our new celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" The girl beside him gasped softly and raised her hand, as if Snape's full attention weren't focused entirely on Potter. "You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

Granger's hand was, somehow, raised up even higher into the air, but Harry could only shake his head and say, "I don't know, sir."

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Granger stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know, sir," said Potter quietly. "I think Hermione does, though; why don't you try asking her?"

The response nearly made Snape laugh aloud, and he had to work to school his features into a scowl. "Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?"

Rather than mouthing off in response, the boy actually kept still and did nothing more than drop his eyes to his workbook. As Snape drew nearer to Potter's bench, he saw that the boy hadn't actually been doodling in the margins but had been taking notes . Perhaps this Potter wouldn't be a total loss after all. Seating himself across from him, Snape decided to take a chance and try explaining.

"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite."

Lily's eyes stared back at him owlishly from behind thick glasses, and it made something tighten in Snape's chest that he didn't particularly like. Ten years had done little to dull the ache of her loss, and he wasn't certain how he was going to manage seven years of having to look into the face of James Potter only to be met with her eyes gazing back at him. It was impossible to tamp down the guilt and anger that threatened to overwhelm him. Turning to the class at large, he asked coldly, "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden scurrying for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape added, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter."

 

*****

Year 11: 1992-1993

Gilderoy Lockhart smiled broadly at the collection of students, his impossibly white teeth gleaming. "Let me introduce my assistant," he began, sweeping a gloved hand in Snape's direction. "Professor Snape has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration."

As Snape climbed the steps leading up to the dueling platform, he found himself already regretting his decision to assist the ridiculous fop. Grudgingly, he took his place at the end of the platform and waited for the man to shut his gob and actually get down to business.

"Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him! Never fear."

Lockhart directed a flirtatious smile at the crowd, and a number of girls sighed longingly. It was revolting, and Snape couldn't help noticing the disgusted look that Potter and Weasley shared. At least that proved the pair had _some_ common sense, even if the same couldn't be said about Granger. While it might be unprofessional to humiliate a colleague intentionally, Lockhart had brought this upon himself, and Snape intended to enjoy it. The two men approached each other, bowed, then assumed their positions with wands at the ready.

"One... two... three!"

Before the students had gathered, they had discussed the rules of engagement, and Lockhart had made it very clear that after his count, both parties would be free to attack. Snape even waited an additional heartbeat because the man was still just standing there, a devil-may-care expression plastered on his too-handsome face. It was sickening, and he was more than happy to remove it forcibly. Even so, this was still for the edification of the students. Slowly and carefully, he made a point of enunciating his spell so that they would have a chance of understanding it.

" _Ex-pelli-armus!_ "

It was all the sweeter still when Lockhart was blasted across the platform to land on his well-sculpted arse, an utterly shocked expression on his perfect features.

In a concerned whisper, Granger leaned closer to her friends and asked, "Do you think he's all right?"

Weasley was too busy laughing and shrugged her off. "Who cares?"

Snape forced his features to remain stern rather than smirking at the boy's flip remark. Once Lockhart pulled himself to his feet, it was much easier to school his expression into one of annoyance and displeasure.

"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape," the DADA professor began, dusting himself off. To the children, he added, "That was a Disarming Charm -- as you see, I've lost my wand -- ah, thank you, Miss Brown. But if you don't mind me saying so, Professor, it was _pretty_ obvious what you were about to do. And if I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy--"

Unable to listen to a moment more of the man's prattling on, Snape snapped back, "Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells?"

"An _excellent_ suggestion, Professor Snape. Uh..." Lockhart shifted uneasily on the stage, then looked to the audience for assistance. "Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley. How about you two?"

"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells." Snape refused to feel sorry for the boy as he pouted dejectedly and shot a hateful look at his broken wand. He wasn't the boy's head of house, and if McGonagall didn't see fit to ensure that Weasley had a working wand, then it wasn't his place to do so. Instead, he simply said, "He'd be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house? Malfoy, perhaps?"

As Potter climbed up onto the dueling platform, Lockhart cuffed him merrily on the shoulder. "Good luck, Potter. Just do what I did."

"What, drop my wand?"

It was a pity that Lockhart hadn't seemed to hear the comment, because Snape would have paid good money to see his reaction to being put in his place by a twelve-year-old. As it was, he whispered under his breath for a point to Gryffindor. He appreciated the boy's snarky wit when it wasn't directed at him.

Spells flew between the two boys, quickly escalating from basic dueling to potentially dangerous attacks. When Draco cast _Serpensortia_ , that was finally too much, even for Snape. "Don't move, Potter. I'll get rid of it for you."

"Allow me, Professor Snape!" Before he could be stopped, Lockhart had his wand out and was casting. " _Alarte Ascendere!_ "

So many insults sprang to mind that it was impossible to decide where to begin. Even a first year with a fledgling understanding of the Latin that made up wizarding spells should have known that 'ascendere' was the word from which 'ascend' was derived! The giant snake was blasted into the air, hissing and flailing as it soared high and then crashed back down on the platform in front of Potter. The serpent hissed again, rising to an impressive height and flaring its hood. A movement from the shocked audience drew its attention from Potter to a terrified Hufflepuff by the stage, but before it could strike, Potter stepped forward and began speaking to it in Parseltongue.

Amazingly, whatever he said caused the snake to turn away from Finch-Fletchley. Snape was as transfixed as everyone else, curious to see what the Boy Who Lived would do. It certainly wasn't the most responsible thing he had ever done, standing idly by as Potter hissed repeatedly at the snake, moving up to stand right beside it -- and yet it seemed to work. The snake's hood retracted, and it assumed a less threatening posture. Not one to waste an opening so conveniently given, Snape pointed his wand and said softly, " _Vipera Evanesca._ "

The students all made noises of surprise as the snake vanished in a puff of black smoke. Rather than being grateful for the distraction Potter had provided, Finch-Fletchley shot a heated accusation at the boy. Even Potter's friends in Gryffindor were warily eyeing him. Curiously, Potter just stared back as if he had no idea what they were on about. The silence in the room eventually stretched to a breaking point, and Potter fled, quickly followed by his two shadows.

 

*****

Year 12: 1993-1994

"I did my waiting! _Twelve years of it!_ In Azkaban!" Snape could hear Black quite clearly as he yelled, but there were other muffled voices that he couldn't make out as he ran through the Shrieking Shack, towards the source of the noise. "Come out, come out, Peter! Come out, come out and play!"

Rounding the corner, Snape could see Black advancing on Potter and his friends, the werewolf standing at his side. Raising his wand, he shouted, " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Black's wand went sailing through the air, a look of shocked surprise on his dirty face. It was too good. He'd dreamed of this since Lily's death, dreamed of finally making the man pay for what he'd done to her. "Ah, vengeance is sweet. How I hoped I'd be the one to catch you."

Lupin tried to sneak up on him, but Snape whipped his wand around to point at him, forcing him to move closer to Black. "I told Dumbledore you were helping an old friend enter the castle and now here's the proof."

"Brilliant, Snape." Black advanced on him, uncaring of the wand pointed threateningly at him. The sarcasm simply rolled off of him in waves. "Once again, you've put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion. Now, if you'll excuse us, Remus and I have some unfinished business to attend to."

Snape dug the point of his wand into Black's throat and growled, "Give me a reason. I beg you."

Wringing his hands, Lupin tried to interject and smooth things over. "Severus, don't be a fool."

"He can't help it, Remus. It's bound to be a habit by now."

In a warning tone, Lupin replied, "Sirius, be quiet."

"Be quiet yourself, Remus," Black snapped back impatiently, and Lupin hung his head with a sigh.

Snape sneered at the pair of them, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Oh, listen to you two, quarreling like an old married couple."

"Why don't you run along and play with your chemistry set?"

Anger flared through him again, and he jabbed at Black's throat until the man whimpered. Black made him sick even to look at, and Lupin wasn't about to rob him of this. He'd waited too long. "I could do it, you know? But why deny the Dementors, when they're so longing to see you? A Dementor's Kiss... One can only imagine what that must be like to endure. It's said to be nearly unbearable to witness, but I'll do my best!"

"Severus, please!"

"After you," Snape said, gesturing towards the door. He was so focused on enjoying the miserable expression Black wore that he missed Potter slowly reaching around Granger's waist to pull her wand from her pocket.

After that, Snape wasn't really sure what happened. One moment, he was about to escort a psychotic murderer to the authorities, and then he was flying through the air. His head cracked against the wall, a pile of rotten lumber and cloth falling down on him. He had no idea how long he was unconscious. Eventually, he managed to work his way out of the debris and back down the tunnel leading from the shack to the school grounds.

Pulling himself from the opening, he heard the youngest Weasley boy whimpering. "Nice doggie... nice doggie..."

Granger, Weasley, and Potter were standing there, clinging to each other just outside the opening. "There you are!" He grabbed Potter by the front of his shirt and shook him. "Potter--"

Anything else he might have said was cut off by vicious snarling behind him, turning his blood to ice. He remembered that sound very clearly. He turned to look over his shoulder and let out a rather undignified noise of alarm before shoving Potter and his friends more fully behind him. Clearly, Lupin hadn't taken the dose of Wolfsbane potion that he'd brewed. Without his wand, there wasn't much Snape could do, even if fear weren't making it difficult to think.

The werewolf took a powerful swipe at him, forcing him to the ground. If the damned brats had an ounce of sense, they would run back down the tunnel while he was being messily devoured. Of course, they didn't. Like idiotic Gryffindors, they just stood there, staring, until Black leapt out of nowhere and tackled the beast.

It was beyond frustrating that Weasley had the most common sense of any of them. When the werewolf took off running after Sirius, Potter broke loose from Snape's hold to give chase. Granger attempted to go after him, but Snape held fast to her arm even as he yelled after Potter to stop being a twit and come back. Weasley, however, remained safely behind him the entire time, helping hold onto the girl's arm so that she couldn't disappear as well.

From the distance, a second cry carried through the air. It didn't sound to Snape like a werewolf, or even a species of wolf native to the area; regardless, Lupin turned and took off through the brush and into the forest. With the immediate threat gone, Snape grabbed Granger firmly by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake to draw her attention fully to what he was saying. She was to help Weasley back into the castle and alert the headmaster. He was going to fetch Potter, so it was up to her to report what had happened and bring help in case-- in case. That damned Gryffindor sense of responsibility kicked in, and she nodded her understanding. Snape moved to collect Lupin's fallen wand so that he could defend himself, should the werewolf return.

When Weasley refused to leave his friend behind, Granger huffed, "Honestly, Ronald, he'll be perfectly safe with Professor Snape. Now come along." When he continued to protest, she had her own wand out and neatly performed a Mobilicorpus incantation, literally dragging the boy behind her all the way back to the castle.

It nearly made Snape's heart stop to find Potter collapsed in the mud at the edge of the lake. He'd seen the glow of a Patronus charm and the chill of dementors was still in the air. Running, he dropped to his knees beside Potter, rolling him over onto his back to inspect him for injuries. He was still breathing, and a simple diagnostic spell told Snape that all seemed to be in order. The boy had simply overtaxed himself.

Conjuring a pair of stretchers, he gently moved Potter and Black, then levitated them to begin the long march back to the castle. At least there was the benefit that it would give him time to compose himself. Potter's running off like that had caused him a considerable amount of disquiet. The boy angered him beyond words sometimes, but he was still one of his students. No one deserved to have werewolves and dementors chasing after them at only thirteen.

It was unsurprising, though. Albus constantly asked too much of people, without thought of the consequences.

 

*****

Year 13: 1994-1995

Despite all of Snape's efforts to radiate disinterest in and a distinct lack of caring about the man's concerns, Igor Karkaroff had bullheadedly barged into his private potions storeroom, arguing with him like a broken record. When words did nothing to bring Snape around to his paranoid point of view, Karkaroff pushed up the sleeve of his left arm to shove the Dark Mark in his face.

"You see how it grows darker? Every day, it's becoming more distinct, just like before!" His body shook both from fear of the Dark Lord and from anger that Snape didn't seem the slightest bit concerned about this. Instead of agreeing with him, instead of coming up with a plan of action, Snape opened the door and made to eject him.

"You know what it means as well as I," Karkaroff insisted, continuing to thrust his arm in Snape's direction.

Snape swore softly under his breath, because of _course_ Harry Potter would be walking by at precisely that moment. Potter possessed some sort of innate knack for being in exactly the most inconvenient place at the worst possible time. On the other hand, the boy's presence had the happy effect of causing Karkaroff to shove his sleeve back into place, covering the Dark Mark once more, and then to stomp off without another word. At least for that, Snape found himself grateful for Potter's presence. Without him, the spineless fool probably would have lingered, going on and on _ad nauseam_ about his fear of the Dark Lord.

Then again, things from his personal inventory had been going missing. It might have been a coincidence; Potter might have just been passing by; but Snape didn't trust coincidences. It wasn't fair to take out his anger with Albus and Igor on the boy, but he was conveniently available. "Potter! What's your hurry?"

The boy was staring after Karkaroff, and it couldn't have been any more obvious that he knew what the man had been on about. Great. That was the last thing he needed to make a bad situation even worse. Anger at his own poor life choices made Snape sneer as Potter moved to stand before him. "Congratulations. Your performance in the Black Lake was inspiring. Gilllyweed, am I correct?"

He was silent for a moment, no doubt debating whether he could come up with a reasonable lie. "Yes sir," he replied, nodding slightly. Snape found it interesting that his expression wasn't one of guilt or fear, just confusion. How curious.

"Ingenious." He hadn't meant it to come out sounding as a compliment, but for Potter to think of such a thing was considerably beyond the average fourth-year student. It wasn't something discussed in Herbology until sixth year, and he didn't make a habit of announcing the contents of his storeroom to students. For him to have come to that conclusion and found a sample for the tournament was, actually, quite impressive. Turning away from him, Snape went back into the storeroom, still speaking as he climbed the ladder to look over his shelves. "A rather rare herb, gillyweed. Not something found in your everyday garden. Nor is this."

He climbed back down to face Potter and held up a small bottle of clear liquid. "Know what it is?"

Potter blinked a few times, confusion giving way to that damned irritating sass that only ever seemed to be directed at him. "Bubble juice, sir?"

Had it been said to anyone else, Snape might have laughed, but as it was, he only corrected the boy. "Veritaserum. Three drops of this and You-Know-Who himself would spill his darkest secrets. The use of it in a student is, regrettably, forbidden."

He let out a sad little sigh, knowing that his implied threat was entirely without merit. Albus would never tolerate such a thing, even 'by accident'. No matter how satisfying it would have been, Snape wouldn't actually do anything to harm one of his students. Not that Potter knew that. As far as the Gryffindor was concerned, nothing was beyond the evil machinations of Slytherin house. The threat alone would be sufficient to sniff out the truth.

"However," he added menacingly, "should you ever steal from my personal stores again my hand might just _slip_ over your morning pumpkin juice."

"I haven't stolen anything!"

Much to Snape's irritation, Potter's response seemed genuine. There was neither guilt nor fear in his eyes, only indignation and hurt, which he attempted to cover with poorly controlled anger. But then, his father had been an excellent liar, tricking the whole school into believing that he was a good person. Trying again to see if he could force Potter into tipping his hand, Snape leaned closer into the boy's face and commanded coldly, "Don't... lie... to me."

He paused to evaluate Potter's reaction, but nothing had changed. Hoping to spot some tell to give him away, Snape added, "Gillyweed may be innocuous, but boomslang skin, lacewing flies? You and your little friends are brewing Polyjuice Potion, and believe me, I'm going to find out why!"

The only thing of worth that Snape noted was Potter's active restraint in shouting back the insult that was clearly on the tip of his tongue. The boy's jaw clenched tightly, and surprise had turned to anger. Aware he wasn't going to get anything more from the conversation, Snape shut the door in Potter's face before he could say anything more. Someone else had been stealing from his stores. Unless one of Potter's friends had done it without telling him about it, he would need to search elsewhere for the culprit.

Part of him was frustrated that his best lead had turned out to be incorrect, but a larger part was actually glad that it hadn't been Potter. Despite all his efforts to hate the boy, he actually disliked Potter far less than he had expected. He had hoped that he was wrong about him being a thief and a cheat. It was so easy to take out his hatred of James on the boy, but secretly, Snape found himself glad of it every time that Potter proved him wrong.

 

*****

Year 14: 1995-1996

Snape could hear Dumbledore speaking in the next room, and he paused at the door to listen. His summons had been vague, just saying that the headmaster required him for a matter regarding Potter. From within his office, Dumbledore was asking, "In the dream were you standing next to the victim, or looking down at the scene?"

"Neither, I--" Potter stammered, trying to find words to describe whatever had happened. He sounded confused, and worse, he sounded afraid. "It was like I-- Professor, will you please just tell me what's happening?"

"Everard!" Dumbledore addressed one of the portraits in his office. "Arthur is on guard duty tonight. Make sure he's found by the right people."

Evidently, whatever Potter had dreamed about had to do with the Order. Trelawney wouldn't know a proper portent from an advert for tomato soup, but even according to her, Potter had no gift for "the inner eye". It wasn't likely that he would have made some sort of prophecy, and yet...

"Sir...?" Potter was trying and failing to get the attention of anyone else in the office, but Dumbledore kept talking over him.

"Phineas! You must go to your portrait at Grimmauld Place. Tell them that Arthur Weasley is gravely injured and his children will be arriving there soon, by Portkey."

"They got him, Albus." Everard's portrait spoke with a great sense of relief, adding, "It was close, but they think he'll make it. Once more, the Dark Lord failed to acquire it."

So that was what all of this was about. That damned prophecy at the Ministry. Somehow, Weasley had been injured while protecting it, and Potter had had the misfortune of having some sort of vision about the whole affair? It seemed improbable, but far more unusual things had happened at Hogwarts in the last five years.

"Oh, thank goodness! Next, we need to--"

" _Look at me!_ " Potter's voice echoed through the office, interrupting anything else the others might have said. The boy's voice cracked with barely contained fear as he asked, "What's happening to me?"

Snape decided to take pity on the brat and make himself known. Perhaps his presence would force the headmaster into giving Potter a few of the answers he so clearly needed. "You wished to see me, Headmaster?"

"Oh, Severus. I'm afraid we can't wait." Even after Potter's outburst, Dumbledore refused to look at him and directed his remarks to Snape alone. "Not even 'til the morning. Otherwise, we'll all be vulnerable."

And so Snape found himself half-leading, half-dragging Potter down from the headmaster's office into the dungeons. He knew all too well what it was to be a pawn in someone else's game, and to his irritation, he actually felt sorry for the brat. Although Dumbledore didn't seem to think that it was important for Potter to understand what was going on, he felt compelled to attempt an explanation.

"It appears there is a connection between the Dark Lord's mind and your own," he said as he opened the door to his office. "Whether he is, as yet, aware of this connection is, for the moment, unclear. Pray he remains ignorant of it."

Potter's brow wrinkled in confusion as he tried to process what he'd been told. "You mean, if he knows about it, then he'll be able to read my mind?"

"Read it, control it, unhinge it. Although the Dark Lord is a powerful Legilimens, for the moment, you remain safe. The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance, and Hogwarts is guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the safety of those who dwell within," Snape replied. "Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Furthermore, eye contact is often essential to Legilimency. Even so, the headmaster feels it is critical to instruct you in Occlumency in order to shield your mind from him."

"If he's too far away to make eye contact and the castle is protected, then why do I have to learn Occlumency?" Potter looked impossibly young at that moment, standing barefoot and in his pajamas, in Snape's office, trying to understand what was happening to him.

"The usual rules never seem to apply with you, Potter." Gesturing to the mark on the boy's forehead, he explained, "The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable -- when you are asleep, for instance -- you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord."

Seating himself on one of the chairs before Snape's desk, Harry was silent for a few moments as he tried to make sense of everything. None of it added up. "But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop the visions?" he asked in confusion. "I hate them; they hurt a lot, and I hate feeling what he's... but it's been useful, hasn't it? I mean... I saw that snake attack Mr. Weasley, and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save him, would he?"

"In the past it was often the Dark Lord's pleasure to invade the minds of his victims, creating visions designed to torture them into madness. Only after extracting the last exquisite ounce of agony, only when he had them literally begging for death, would he finally kill them. While I'm certain that Arthur Weasley thanks you for your help, he would certainly not approve of your recklessly endangering yourself." Potter was poised to interrupt him, so he pressed on insistently. "Used _properly_ , the power of Occlumency will help shield you from access or influence. Up until now, it seems that you have been experiencing the Dark Lord's emotions and sharing his thoughts without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had--"

"The snake and Mr. Weasley?"

"Do not interrupt me, Potter," said Snape in a dangerous voice. "As I was saying, the vision you had represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord's thoughts that--"

"I saw inside the snake's head, not his!"

"I thought I just told you not to interrupt me?"

Potter had moved forward in his chair so that, without realizing it, he was perched on the very edge. "How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?"

"Do not say the Dark Lord's name!"

"Professor Dumbledore says his name," said Potter quietly. There was something akin to pity in his expression, and it made Snape angry to see.

"Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard," Snape shot back. "While he may feel secure enough to use the name, I... Just, don't say it." He rubbed his left forearm, apparently unconsciously, on the spot where the Dark Mark was burned into his skin.

"I just wanted to know," Potter began again, forcing his voice back to politeness, "why--"

Snape's patience was swiftly running out, and he snapped back, "I do not have answers to everything the Dark Lord does! The important point is that the Dark Lord is now or will very soon be aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts. It is also likely that, if you can access his thoughts and feelings, then in return--"

"He might try and make me do things?" asked Potter.

Forcing down the impulse to lecture the boy on his inability to hold his tongue, Snape simply nodded and replied, "He might. Which brings us back to Occlumency. In these lessons I will attempt to penetrate your mind. You will attempt to resist."

"Professor?"

" _What?_ "

"Thank you. For explaining things to me." Potter fidgeted in his seat, staring at his hands rather than lifting his gaze to meet Snape's. "No one else ever tells me what's going on, even though-- Well... just, thank you."

"Do not thank me, Potter. This will be in no way pleasant for either of us. Now, stand up and take out your wand."

Harry got to his feet feeling nervous. They faced each other with the desk between them. "You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," said Snape.

"And what are you going to do?" Potter asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape softly. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this. Now, prepare yourself." He waited only a moment before casting his spell. " _Legilimens!_ "

> _Harry was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin._  
>  _Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair._  
>  _A hundred dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake._  
>  _A great black dragon was rearing in front of him, freezing him in place with fear._  
>  _Cho Chang was drawing nearer to him under the mistletoe..._

_No,_ said a voice in Harry's head, as the memory of Cho drew nearer, _you're not watching that, you're not watching it, it's private--_

He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape's office had come back into view, and Harry realized that he had fallen to the floor; one of his knees had collided painfully with Snape's desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark.

"Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?" asked Snape coolly.

"No," Harry replied, getting up from the floor. He hadn't even realized that he'd cast a spell; he had just wanted Snape out of his mind. "Are you all right, sir?"

"Somehow, I shall survive it. It was crude attempt, but I suppose it worked well enough. Let's try it again, this time with you _intentionally_ protecting yourself from my attack. You can't trust luck to save you. Clear your mind, and when you feel the mental invasion, deflect it. Ready? _Legilimens!_ "

*****

"Are you even trying? I told you to clear your mind, Potter," said Snape in a cold voice. Even after months of lessons, Potter was just as useless as his first time. "Let go of all emotion. You will need more discipline than this. _Focus._ "

Harry tried to empty his mind, tried not to think, or remember, or feel... Even as he tried to do as he was told, he could feel anger and pain and bitterness pounding through his veins like venom.

"Let's go again, on the count of three... one-- two-- three-- _Legilimens!_ "

> _He was being made to stand in the corner and watch his family eat, praying that no one noticed as he pocketed scraps for later._  
>  _His aunt's bulldog was chasing him up a tree as the Dursleys laughed at him from the lawn._  
>  _Older now, Harry sat alone in a room with bars on the windows and a locked door with a cat flap built into the bottom. His aunt pushed in a plate with bread, withered carrots, and a small piece of burnt meat. Harry shredded the meat and gave the best bits to his snowy owl, apologizing to her that there wasn't more._  
>  _Harry was standing before the Mirror of Erised and seeing the parents who had died before he was even old enough to remember them._

It hurt Snape to see Lily there, love in her eyes as she looked between James and Harry, when they had been so cold towards him. Scowling, he dropped the spell and let Potter catch his breath. "Concentrate, Potter. Focus! I told you to empty yourself of emotion!"

"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment," he snapped back, still panting from the effort.

"This will continue until you can get it right, so it would behoove you to try harder! _Legilimens!_ "

> _"Pick up your wand, Potter. I said pick it up, get up. Get up!"_

Snape's blood ran cold at the memory that had surfaced. The Dark Lord was there, sneering cruelly at the boy. Snape hadn't been present for Voldemort's return; he had only heard about it from others. It wasn't right to linger too long on any one memory, but the brat had to learn sooner or later the consequences of not working harder, so he remained to see how it would play out.

>   _"You've been taught how to duel, I presume, yes? First we bow to each other. Come on now, Harry, the niceties must be observed. Dumbledore would not want you to forget your manners, now, would he? I said bow!" Voldemort thrust his wand at the boy, casting a wordless curse to force Harry into bowing with him. The terrified boy struggled, but in the end, he was helpless but to comply. Surrounding them, Death Eaters watched and laughed, some even clapping in delight. "That's better. And now... Crucio!" _
> 
> _Harry writhed on the ground, screaming in agony._

Snape had been on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's fury before, but at fourteen, he had never even seen the Cruciatus curse cast before, let alone had it cast on him personally. The memory wavered at that point, as Harry's suffering was too great to recall clearly what had happened next. Voldemort continued speaking, but the words were too muffled to make out until the boy had recovered slightly.

> _True to Gryffindor stupidity, rather than accepting his fate or letting his fear overcome him, Potter lifted his wand and managed to cast a disarming spell. Unsurprisingly, the Dark Lord had no difficulty countering the attempt._
> 
> _"I'm going to kill you, Harry Potter." The Dark Lord's voice softened, his expression almost magnanimous, as if granting a gift. "I'm going to destroy you. After tonight, no one will ever again question my powers. After tonight, if they speak of you, they'll speak only of how you begged for death, and I, being a merciful lord, obliged. Get up."_
> 
> _When the Dark Lord turned to his Death Eaters to gloat, Potter made a mad scramble for cover and hid. "Don't you turn your back on me, Harry Potter!" Voldemort sent a jagged bolt of green light from his wand to Harry's hiding place. "I want you to look at me when I kill you; I want to see the lights leave your eyes--"_
> 
> _Eyes._
> 
> _Cedric Diggory's eyes were blank, dead, and empty as they stared up at Potter's tear-stained face, the boy crying hysterically amid the cheers of the Hogwarts student body._

"No!" Finally, _finally_ , Potter managed to push him away. "Not that. Not-- I don't want to see that anymore."

Pity wasn't going to help Potter in his fight against Voldemort. Rather than accepting the request and moving on, Snape tried to explain. "Nothing is private, either from me or the Dark Lord if you don't improve. Every memory he has access to is a weapon he can use against you. You won't last two seconds if he invades your mind."

"I'm tired-- I don't know _how!_ "

Potter wasn't the only one who was exhausted, and his complaints caused the last of Snape's patience to vanish. "You're just like your father. Lazy, arrogant."

"Don't say a word against my father," said Potter in a low voice, fury now pumping through him and giving him renewed energy.

"Weak! You stand no chance against the Dark Lord's powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"

"I'm not weak!"

"Then _prove_ it! Control your emotions! Discipline your mind!" Potter had a rare gift for getting under his skin like few others, but even so, he didn't deserve whatever the Dark Lord would do, given unhindered access to his thoughts. "We'll try again; get ready. _Legilimens!_ "

>   _Harry was a small boy, locked in a cupboard with his toy knight riding a horse with only three legs._  
>  _Slightly older, Harry was in his cupboard again, standing on his tip-toes to look out a slat in the door to see the telly._  
>  _Uncle Vernon hammering the letter box shut so the owls couldn't deliver his Hogwarts letter._  
>  _Harry was running through the front hall of Grimmauld Place to throw himself into Sirius Black's arms, happier than he'd been in ages._

"I may vomit."

"Stop it!"

Potter was hunched over, gasping for breath, and it send a twinge of guilt through him. From what he'd seen, Snape knew that the boy could take it. They weren't yet at his breaking point, even if it did make him feel something of a bully. Of course, it would do Harry no favors to be easy on him at this point. The Dark Lord certainly wouldn't hold back.

"Is that what you call control?"

Potter had to lean on the edge of Snape's desk for support. "We've been at it for hours. If I could just rest!"

"The Dark Lord _isn't_ resting." Snape advanced on him, disgusted by Potter's obvious lack of practice. "You and Black, you're two of a kind, sentimental children forever whining about how bitterly unfair your lives have been. Well, it may have escaped your notice, but life _isn't_ fair. Your blessed father knew that; in fact, he frequently saw to it!"

"My father was a great man!"

"Your father was a swine. _Legilimens!_ "

Potter didn't have time even to raise his wand. His anger kept him from thinking straight, and he simply shouted back a shielding spell. " _Protego!_ "

At best, he had expected the spell to protect him from Snape's attack; he had never thought that it would reverse the effect, and yet he was suddenly standing near the Black Lake beside Sirius, Lupin, and what could only have been his father. It was no wonder that everyone kept telling him that he looked like James, save the fact that his father was a few inches taller and broader in the chest.

> _"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," said James quietly, pointing towards a row of bushes not far from where they sat. "Look who it is."_
> 
> _Sirius's head turned and a grin played across his features. "Excellent," he said softly. "Snivellus."_
> 
> _"All right, Snivellus?" said James loudly as he and Sirius approached the shady spot Snape had seated himself to review his OWLs work. Snape dropped his bag and instinctively fumbled for his wand, but Potter was quicker, shouting, " Expelliarmus!"_
> 
> _Sirius laughed and shouted to his friend, "Nice one, James!"_
> 
> _Snape's wand flew into the air and fell in the grass behind him, causing Sirius to let out a bark of laughter. " Impedimenta!" he said, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet, halfway through a dive toward his own fallen wand._
> 
> _A group of students began to gather around them. Some looked apprehensive, but most were entertained by the scene and cheered on James and Sirius as they advanced toward Snape, who was lying in the grass and panting. Their laughter was incentive enough for Snape to attempt to get up again, but the jinx was still holding him bound as if by invisible ropes. He let out a stream of mixed swearwords and hexes, but without his wand, nothing happened._
> 
> _"Wash out your mouth," said James coldly. " Scourgify!"_
> 
> _Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape's mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips and choking him._
> 
> _"Leave him alone!"_
> 
> _James and Sirius looked around in confusion. "Evans?"_
> 
> _"Leave him alone," Lily repeated, looking at James with every sign of great dislike. "What's he done to you?"_
> 
> _"Well," said James, appearing to deliberate the point, "it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."_
> 
> _Snape had worked his way to his wand, but James was faster. He whirled about, and in a flash of light, Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants. Most of their small audience cheered while Sirius and James roared with laughter._
> 
> _"Leave him alone!" Lily shouted, her own wand out now._
> 
> _"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said James earnestly. When she refused to back down, he sighed and released the spell. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus, or--"_
> 
> _"I don't need help from Mudbloods like her!"_
> 
> _Lily blinked in surprise, then said coolly, "Fine, I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus. And you." She rounded on James. "You make me sick." She turned on her heel and hurried away._
> 
> _"Evans!" James shouted after her. "Hey, Evans! Huh... What's with her?"_
> 
> _"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," replied Sirius with a laugh._
> 
> _"Right," said James, who looked furious now. There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside down in the air. "Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"_

"Enough!" Snape managed to push Potter out of his mind and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. The professor's face was white, and his whole frame shook with rage as he hissed, "Your lessons are at an end."

For the first time, Potter actually looked sorry for something that he'd done, and he tried to stammer out an apology. "I didn't mean to--"

" _Get. Out._ " 

*****

Year 15: 1996-1997

Curse breaking was not an easy thing. It required a great deal of skill and practice, as well as a healthy dose of good luck and timing. Albus, the damned fool, had knowingly and willingly put on a cursed ring, then had told no one of it until it was far too late. Presumably, he'd thought himself able to control the dark magic flowing through it. Snape had studied the headmaster carefully, once he'd been allowed. He had performed countercurses, made up potions and salves, and done everything he could to slow the curse's progress.

"How long?"

Snape again considered the headmaster's blackened hand and the diagnostic spells he had cast today, compared to when he had first been summoned to attempt to break the curse. "Maybe a year."

He had known that Dumbledore's chances of recovery were nonexistent, but saying it aloud made his chest tighten uncomfortably. Anger, sorrow, and guilt all played out across his features before he could compose himself. Rising quickly from his seat, Snape made to leave before he could betray himself further.

"Don't ignore me, Severus; we have much yet to talk about. We both know Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to kill me. But should he fail, one should presume the Dark Lord will turn to you. _You_ must be the one to kill me, Severus. It is the only way. Only then will the Dark Lord trust you completely."

When Snape shook his head defiantly and continued on his way out of the headmaster's office, Dumbledore rose to his feet and advanced towards him. "Listen to me, Severus; this is terribly important. There will come a time when Harry Potter must be told something. But you must wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable. It's highly likely that I will not be around to do it, so you must tell him this for me."

That gave Snape pause, and he turned questioningly to the Headmaster. "What must he be told?"

"On the night Lord Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry, and Lily Potter cast herself between them, the curse rebounded." Snape nodded impatiently, aware of that. "A part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find: Harry himself. There's a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There's a reason he can look into Lord Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives _inside_ him."

"So when the time comes..." Snape hesitated as he read between the lines of what was being said. "He must die?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded his head sadly in agreement. "Yes, he must die."

Indignation rose within him on Potter's behalf. "You've kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment. You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter."

Dumbledore brushed off his concerns with a scoff. "Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately, only those whom I could not save." It was too much. Dumbledore had promised to keep them safe, had made Snape himself promise to help keep Harry safe! It wasn't supposed to end like this. "I'm not shocked by the concept of death so much as by your nonchalance concerning Harry's!"

The headmaster's disbelief was evident as he replied, "'Harry', is it now? Don't tell me that you've grown to care for the boy. After all your complaints and insults over the years?"

Snape's expression was one of deep hurt, only just coming to realize that his friend had never truly understood him despite everything they had been through. Taking out his wand, he swirled it gently through the air and murmured, " _Expecto Patronum_."

Dumbledore watched in shock as a ghostly doe pranced around his office, while Snape's face was a mask of sorrow. Turning slowly, tears in his own eyes, the headmaster whispered softly, "Lily. After all this time?"

"Always." He didn't imagine that he would ever stop loving her. Lily had been the first person really to care what happened to him, and he would never forget that. But more than that, Potter deserved better than this, especially from Albus Dumbledore. "Is there no other way?"

Regret laced the old man's voice as he repeated, "He must die, and Voldemort himself must do it. That is essential."

It was too much. Teachers were supposed to protect their students, not plot how best to use them like expendable pawns. Dumbledore might claim to be acting for the greater good, but now Harry was just one more loose end to tie up in his efforts to erase the mistakes he had made with Tom Riddle. Shaking his head, Snape said firmly, " _No._ "

"Yes, Severus, he _must_ , or Voldemort will never truly be defeated. He'll return. He'll find a way, and this will all begin again. Isn't one boy's life worth preventing that from happening?"

"I never agreed to that. I never-- I'll do what must be done to help Draco. I'll do what the Dark Lord has commanded if I must, but I will have nothing to do with murdering Harry Potter. I can't-- Don't ask me to." Before Dumbledore could press him any further, he turned and stormed out of the headmaster's office.

Besides the Malfoys, Albus had been one of his only friends. Snape didn't suffer fools well, and he still harbored lingering anger at some of his coworkers for allowing his own years of childhood torment to continue unchecked. McGonagall had slowly worked her way through his defenses via arguments about Quidditch, bets lost and won on the House Cup, and years of grousing together, over coffee, about early morning meetings. Albus was coldly calculating and manipulative under that grandfatherly façade of his and would have made an excellent Slytherin. Even so, he was still the closest thing that Snape had to a friend.

Potter, too, considered the headmaster to be a close friend. The boy wouldn't take this well; he was still too young and idealistic. The brat hated Snape, more so now that Black was dead, because naturally that was somehow his fault. Dumbledore's death would be his fault as well, no doubt. Not Dumbledore's for putting on a cursed object in the first place, but his for not having done enough, not knowing enough, not being fast enough. He knew that Potter would blame him because he already blamed himself.

 

*****

Year 16: 1997-1998

The students of Hogwarts were all lined up by House, standing at attention in the Great Hall. Amycus and Alecto Carrow stood at the head of the room, looking sternly at the silent mass gathered there, the Heads of House doing all they could to get the students arranged smoothly and quietly so there would be no cause for punishments. Once everything was in order, the headmaster swept into the room, his robes billowing out behind him as he strode purposefully to the front to stand between the Death Eater siblings.

"Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you at this hour." Snape paused to look out over the crowd, which stood silent and still. The expressions on their faces ranged from simple exhaustion to fear and outright despair. Snape slipped his hands into the pockets of the long frockcoat he wore under his robes and stated, "It's come to my attention that earlier this evening, Harry Potter was sighted in Hogsmeade."

An excited ripple of murmured disbelief ran through the student body, hope evident on their young faces. Snape allowed it to continue for only a moment before pointedly speaking up to reclaim their attention. "Now... should anyone... student or staff... attempt to aid Mr. Potter, they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression."

Around the room, the children's heads all dropped, their gazes pinned to the floor. The threat of punishment was clearly enough to silence any joy they might have felt moments ago. Even the teaching staff seemed cowed by the headmaster's words.

"Furthermore... any person found to have knowledge of these events... who fails to come forward... will be treated as equally guilty." Snape paused again to let his menacing words sink in. Walking slowly between the lines of students, Snape hated that they shrank away from him in fear. He wanted a certain level of obedience from his students, a measure of respect that he felt was his due, but no part of him wished for children to be terrified of his very presence. He hated both the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore in nearly equal measures for forcing this on him. But he couldn't stop, not yet. He had to press on. "If anyone in here has any knowledge of Mr. Potter's movements this evening, I invite them to step forward. Now!"

A wave of shocked gasps ran through the student body as one of their ranks was brazen enough actually to do so. There was a flash of surprise on Snape's face as well, as he realized that the student who had stepped forward was Harry Potter himself. A buzz of energy ran through the room, the students all craning around each other for a better look.

Snape wanted to curse the brat for his idiocy. Potter wasn't ready for such a confrontation, especially not alone! The Carrows would tear him apart, and Snape would have to break his cover to keep him safe. Snape fully expected to die for Potter's sake, and soon, but he had intended that death to come fighting the Dark Lord. After learning that Albus planned to sacrifice Potter to wipe clean his mistakes, Snape had vowed not to let that happen, no matter what the cost to himself. But this was too soon; all of the proper pieces were not yet in play!

"It seems," Potter began, his voice laced with disgust, "despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a security problem, Headmaster. I'm afraid it's quite extensive."

As Potter spoke, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and the Order of the Phoenix entered along with the members of Dumbledore's Army that had been in hiding.

Harry's face was filled with hurt and betrayal as he asked, "How dare you stand where he stood?"

Snape's own expression was a mask of neutrality. His eyes darted between the Order, Potter, and the students, trying to work out some sort of a plan to stall, to get out of this with his cover intact, although his face gave away none of his own thoughts.

"Tell them how it happened that night!" Potter shouted at him, "Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him. Tell them! Coward!"

At that word, Snape raised his wand reflexively. He hadn't meant to do it, but he was angry and distracted. By far, 'coward' was not the worst thing he had ever been called, but it always struck a nerve with him. Before Potter could make a move for his own wand, Professor McGonagall shoved him aside, putting herself between them. Minutely, Snape's head shook side to side, the expression on his face silently begging her please not to do this, to trust him, to believe in him. He didn't want to fight her, but the expression on her face said that he wasn't going to be able to reason with her.

McGonagall slashed her wand through the air, sending a powerful bolt of fire down the length of the Hall at him, and Snape cursed at its strength. She wasn't holding back in the slightest. Somehow, he managed to get up a powerful enough Shield charm to disperse the flames carefully rather than sending them rebounding through the room. The idiot students were all just standing there, watching! They had taken a few steps back, but rather than running for cover -- or more intelligently, running away full stop -- hundreds of students stood in the way, gaping at them as blast after blast barreled down the Hall at Snape. It was a miracle that no stray magic struck any of the onlookers.

When McGonagall sent two bolts almost exactly on top of one another, Snape was quite proud of himself for managing to deflect them so that the red-orange waves of energy rebounded behind him to strike both Amycus and Alecto instead. At least he could do that much for the Order. The two Death Eaters each gave a cry of pain before falling to the floor unconscious, but no one in the hall paid them any mind, as they were too busy watching the ensuing battle before them.

"No more," a squeaky voice shouted, and Flitwick rushed to stand at McGonagall's side, raising his wand against the headmaster. "You'll do no more murder at Hogwarts!"

Snape was barely able to raise a sufficient Shielding charm to block both of their attacks. He had already known that he was outmatched fighting McGonagall alone, and there was no way that he would be able to hold his own against the pair of them. Neither Potter nor Minerva looked of a mind to listen to any explanations he might offer, so it was best to cut his losses and run for the time being. McGonagall's final parting shot was to call him a coward as he ran, and it cut deep, for now he truly was. The Mark on his arm burned, and Snape knew that his life could now be counted in hours as the Dark Lord made his way to Hogwarts.

 

*****

~end~

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story continues in the next installment: [_Unlikely Places_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10212440). Thank you all for reading; I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Also, many thanks to [Hunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehunter) for all her hard work in editing this and all my things! She is the best. :)


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